


Life Changes

by SABATHco



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Adult Themes, Other, Profanity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-27
Updated: 2016-10-27
Packaged: 2018-08-27 07:20:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8392360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SABATHco/pseuds/SABATHco
Summary: Kaaras isn't aware of the truths behind his father's past, and to his surprise, there's things he left behind. Meeting Talan for the first time. Kaaras Adaar, Talan-ash, Inquisition timeline.





	

Life Changes  
  
**Characters: Kaaras Adaar, Talan-ash  
** Timeline: Inquisition (before the Halamshiral ball)  
Warning: Contains adult themes, profanity  
  
   It was freezing down here. And worse, the damn castle was on the peak of a fucking mountain. Who honestly built a castle so damn high up in the mountains? Well… Talan supposed that it was to keep it hidden. Skyhold was far from hidden, however. Now everyone knew where the Inquisition resided, and in turn, the Inquisitor.  
   He’d just made it up the pathway towards the front gates. He could already hear the noise buzzing from within. So many thoughts had been with him through his travels from Kont-aar in Rivain. From his home. He couldn’t say he didn’t miss it, especially the damn sun burning his tanned skin. There might have been sunshine over the mountains, but it was far from warm. Everything was touched by ice, cold and brittle. Snow was in his deep red hair, and he hated that, it left it damp and it started to get more waves in it. He’d ended up braiding it once he’d hit Ferelden. Across the sea, there was a noticeable change in temperature. And weather…  
   It didn’t help that the Qunari had absolutely no shirt on. His toned body was covered in goose bumps from the cold, but he managed to find a nice piece of what seemed to be a blanket or perhaps a poncho or some sort on his travels. He’d tied it up around his shoulders and neck so he could have some form of warmth, but even when it rained in Rivain, it was never cold. Humid storms with warm water, sometimes hail, but never as cold as the snow that touched him.  
   An ear flicked as he realised something. Wait a second, there wasn’t snow on him anymore. He looked back down the mountain where he could visibly _see_ that it was snowing, and then through the gates there—where it was not. Now… that was fucked up. He already felt uneasy about every step of what he was doing, but he was here now.  
   It was time to find the Inquisitor.  
   Stepping his way through the gates, icy blue eyes travelled over the yard before him. Noise was coming from every direction. There were trading markets across the way, and what appeared to be stables further down. Not the direction he was going. The Inquisitor would surely be in the largest tower of the castle, as cliché as any tale. If Kaaras Adaar was anything like the rumours were saying of him, he was a powerful commander and an even more powerful _saarebas_.  
   He needed to find someone who looked like they were of importance. Not the fancily dressed nobles who were clearly here, sticking in their little packs and gossiping. Not the people who were dressed poorly, not even the scouts he saw who wore the Inquisition jerkins. He needed someone in armour, someone who was _< screaming_ ‘I work for the Inquisitor’. Ah… and there, what appeared to be a knight or guard or something of that proportion.  
   “Excuse me,” he said politely, his Rivaini accent thick as he spoke, “I am looking for the Inquisitor. Do you know where I can find him?”  
   The man looked at him, his sword at his side, but sheathed, eyes sizing him up. “You and a hundred other people, oxman. You’ll have to wait just like everyone else.” His accent was Orlesian, and most of his face was hidden by the helmet he was wearing.  
   Despite the slur, Talan just wore a pleasant smile. Slurs didn’t bother him in the slightest. He didn’t care that people called him names, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to let anyone think that they were getting to him with petty racism. Especially an Orlesian.  
   So, Kaaras was a busy man, then. Of course he was, Talan didn’t expect anything else. However, he didn’t want to be waiting hours until he saw the famous Herald of Andraste either. He’d been walking for weeks, catching caravans when he could, he even managed to steal a horse, which he soon abandoned and slapped so it would go back home—it it could find its home. He took it for a few days, after all. There were plenty of them, though, surely their owner wouldn’t mind that one out or twenty was missing.  
   “Ah, you see, the Inquisitor is a man of just punishment, my friend, and if he heard that one of his men were calling his _brother_ a racist slur, I do not think he would be very happy,” he smirked, eyes lighting up as the man stiffened.  
  
   Inquisitor’s brother!? The guard instantly straightened up.  
  
   “I have been travelling for weeks, and my poor feet are so sore, you see. Kaaras would be furious to see that his dear brother was not given good hospitality that he deserved. Am I wrong?” Clearly not by the stiffened posture of the guard. He’d never met Kaaras, but he heard enough through lips of others. Plus, he was a qunari, who was going to ask questions about his blood relation? It wasn’t a lie, they _did_ share the same father. A reason Talan was here. To meet his half-brother for the very first time—amongst other reasons.  
  
   “Maker’s arse, I’m sorry, ser. I… I will take you to him straight away. Please follow me.”  
  
   As the guard moved off, Talan’s smirk grew and he followed the human up the set of stairs, into what looked like a courtyard. More people. Busy people. Training, talking, an infirmary, training—oh! A tavern! Ah yes, now this place was getting more interesting.  
   He travelled further up to more stairs into the main hall where he saw the throne sitting at the far end. Guards surrounded it, and then another door to the side, which had more guards. He was definitely heading in the right direction, that was for sure. Where there were guards, there would be an Inquisitor soon.  
   “I tell you what, my good man, Kaaras must be fit from all of these stairs, yes?” he laughed before he added, “I haven’t seen him for a lifetime.” Not even a lie either, just manipulative words.  
  
   The guard looked to take in Talan’s bronze tinted skin, his long, red hair that was braided to one side, and his much longer and lankier form compared to the Herald. They didn’t look related at all when it came to their bodies, and yet, he noticed the man’s facial structure, and he could see some small resemblances. The cheek bones were similar, Talan had smaller ears also, but then again, he had seen most qunari did. Not that he thought bad of the Inquisitor’s!    
   “Wait here,” he informed, tapping his knuckles onto the door. He turned when he felt a hand on his shoulder, long clawed fingertips gripping him casually as the man’s eyes were on him.  
  
   “Do not tell him it’s his brother. I want to surprise him.” Talan was wearing that grin again, eyes bright and full. But in reality, Kaaras would never believe it. He was a Vashoth, and as Inquisitor, he probably had people trying to invade his personal life every day. If the man went in there and said some qunari was claiming to be his brother, he’d not make it inside at all. If Kaaras was anything like the rumours said, then he was a commanding presence.    
  
   Unease settled in the man’s stomach, but he nodded before he stepped through the door.  
  
   Kaaras was seated at his desk, quill in hand as he finished his sentence before looking up at the guard who had entered. “What is it?” he asked, voice soft as he put the quill down. This was really nothing new for him, he had people coming in every day to ask or inform him of things. When he wasn’t out on the field, it was generally this. Letters, war meetings, and casual chatting and making sure Skyhold was up to par.  
  
   Giving a small bow, the man put his hands behind his back, his helmet up now. “There is someone to see you, Inquisitor,” he spoke, voice loud and clear as if announcing it across the room. The words lingered on his lips, ready to tell the Inquisitor that this man was claiming to be his brother. But then… if he did not do this stranger’s bidding, then perhaps he would tell Adaar of his racial slur, and he didn’t wish to upset the Inquisitor with that little bit of information.    
  
   “Who is it?” Kaaras asked.  
  
   “A qunari. Sorry, I did not get the name, they said it was rather urgent, from the Valo-Kas.” He lied so he could possibly make Kaaras more comfortable, and surprise him even more about his brother. Everybody knew the Valo-Kas now, even if the Inquisitor was not their captain and had not been a part of the mercenary band for years now. It was a common mistake since their correlation at the Conclave.  
  
   “Send them up, then,” Kaaras said with a small smile as he stood. The man disappeared down the stairs after another formal bow before he heard the footsteps of another, however, when he saw the qunari, he was not a face he’d seen before. As far as he was concerned, he’d never met him before. That didn’t mean he wasn’t from the Valo-Kas. He hadn’t worked with them for years now, he’d parted and had his own band. The only reason he and his team had allied with the Valo-Kas once more was because of the Conclave meeting. Perhaps a negotiation of some sorts? Or work needed? He’d already been in contact with Shokrakar since.  
  
   Talan could not deny the excitement within his beating heart as he walked those steps, so ready to see the precious Herald. He might not have been Andrastian, but the words he’d heard of Inquisitor Adaar were… well… if everything went accordingly, then he would be safe here. From the Qun. The Qun he had betrayed when he’d broken in and stolen records to see Adaar’s bloodlines.  
   The stories were rather wild, even a little inspiring. They told tales of the Vashoth qunari who saved lives, and was ferocious on the battlefield. A leader with a strong voice, and a man who could change Qunari to Tal-Vashoth. Apparently.  
   However, when Talan turned, he found he was looking _down_ at the qunari who stood beside his desk. Kaaras was… _short!?_ His brows lifted just a little. Well, Talan knew he was on the more lanky side of qunari, but still! The tales said a tall mage of thick muscle, and a authoritative nature. Kaaras was… not what he was expecting. Not in the slightest. He was cute, though. Blonde, pale grey skin (not surprising since he grew up in Ferelden, he supposed), stocky, but well put together. Very well put together for a qunari... He didn’t often see that—if at all. His ears were huge!  
  
   “May I help you?” asked the mage, looking up. “You’re from the Valo-Kas? My apologies if I don’t recognise you. Before the Conclave, it’s been a long time since I’ve worked with your company.”  
  
   The Ferelden accent was obvious as the man spoke, and Talan gave a soft laugh, flicking his braid over his shoulder. “Ah, not quite,” he mused, folding his arms casually against his chest. “Actually, I have never met the Valo-Kas in my entire life. You would be the first, Kaaras. But you are not _with_ the Valo-Kas anyway, are you? You have your own band, or so I have heard through my travels and my questions.” And oh, had there been questions!  
  
   The friendliness immediately left the Inquisitor’s face and Kaaras’ lips went to a thin line. “The Beres-taar, yes… Who are you and what do you want if you’re not from the Valo-Kas?” His tone flattened.  
  
   Ah, straight to the point. Talan liked it. Well, perhaps Kaaras would appreciate it back. Sure, he could stand here and play his usual cat and mouse, but with the sudden change in Kaaras’ tone, he read that the man was no longer in the mood for pleasantries.  
   “I am Talan-ash, but you can just call me Talan. I am your older brother.”  
  
   Kaaras’ lips parted and his ears flicked back. For a moment, there was nothing but silence, eventually broken by an amused laughed as Kaaras looked the man up and down. For one, how could this man be his brother? They hardly looked alike. Talan was… tall, handsome, red hair, blue eyes, dark skin. Nothing alike in the looks department!  
   “Well, this isn’t the first, and I assure you that it won’t be the last, Talan,” he stated, shaking his head. If he had a brother, he’d know, considering he would have lived with them. He’d heard it before, too. People trying to claim to be anything related to him—and not just qunari! It was sometimes people, too. Or crackpots trying to say that they were spiritually connected or some other bullshit that would have him accepting them with open arms.  
   No. It didn’t work and it never would. Just like the people before, Talan wasn’t going to be getting any sort of support or coin or whatever the bloody hell they wanted when they started throwing these accusations around. It was preposterous!  
   “If you’re here for coin or Inquisition support, I’d rather you just be honest with me,” he stated, casually folding his arms over his chest. He gave the man a chance, at least, to put some kind of offer on the table. He wasn’t heartless, he’d just dealt with this before. A few months ago, and absolutely no one cared to be seen with him. A savage qunari around humans? Their first thoughts were to spit on him, and now everyone wanted to be related to him or seen with him. Funny how easily people could change when power and fortune was involved.  
  
   Ah, but of course the Inquisitor wouldn’t believe him. Why would he? Kaaras was absolutely right! With this kind of power, anybody could come snivelling around. He smiled, looking down at the shorter qunari.  
   “You are Vashoth, yes? Which means that you never grew up under the Qun. But your parents, dear Inquisitor, did. Tal-Vashoth do have lives before they leave the Qun, you know.” He watched Kaaras’ expression tighten as he mentioned his parents. “I did not say that your mother and father were both my own. Just one.” A long finger was held up, emphasising his words.  
  
   Swallowing hard, Kaaras frowned, looking at the man’s deep, red hair. If he remembered much of his father, it was his dark hair. And yet, this could all still be a lie. Red hair wasn’t exactly rare when it came to qunari.  
   Why would Talan come now if they were related? Because he was the Inquisitor? Something in his gut told him it wasn’t innocent reasons… Not by the looks of the man before him, anyway. By one look he screamed that he was a delinquent.  
   “You don’t even sound Par Vollen,” he pointed out. “My mother and father were from Par Vollen. They only moved once my mother fell pregnant. So unless they decided to pop you out and leave you—which my parents are better than that—you can try again.”  
  
   Stubborn, this one. Now, that was a trait he did remember in their father, or at least the stories and so little he saw of him. Talan was only three years older than Kaaras, and that was a long time ago. But he still remembered. Despite their breeding programmes, every now and again a runt was born. Someone who wasn’t meant to because someone was fucking someone behind closed doors. It happened all the time. Talan was one of those someones. The only reason he knew the man was his father was because he’d paid special attention to him before he fled and left him alone.  
   “You see… the funny thing about the Qun is that they keep extensive breeding records, Kaaras Adaar. And your pretty, oh so passionate red eyes? Tell me, have you ever seen another qunari down in this snow filled land with those eyes? Blonde hair is not exactly the most common hair trait in our people, either. But it seems that I carry his red haired trait. Yours is from a different generation.”  
  
   Kaaras idly ran a hand through his Mohawk at the mention and looked at Talan. No… If he was honest, he’d never seen another qunari down south with the same eyes as his—except for his father. He didn’t often see blondes either, but he lived in Ferelden most of his life, and then Starkhaven. Who knew what a lot of them looked like further up north.  
   “You’re lying.” It came out in a cooler manner, dark in tone. He didn’t have a brother! He wasn’t stupid, he knew that qunari had strict breeding habits, but then what the hell was Talan doing here? Was he meant to be the perfect specimen that his father created? His father hadn’t _been_ in the breeding programme! And he doubted the Qun just let any old child be born if they were so damn strict in nature. But Kaaras didn’t know either, because he’d never lived there. He hadn’t the slightest clue on what went on. Everything was just speculation and what he’d heard other people say—which could all be a load of shit in the end.  
  
   “Well, you are correct on one thing, my friend,” the rogue smiled, his eyes flashing back to the Inquisitor. “I am from Rivain. Kont-aar, to be specific. I was born there, not in Par Vollen. But I _have_ been there. Funny thing about Kont-aar, though, it is not exactly a Qunari breeding ground. Still land owned by the Qun, and a stronghold on Rivain—just that little bit. We have people come and go from Seheron and Par Vollen, and many of those people get antsy, if you catch my drift. So whoever you thought your father was before his precious, little Tal-Vashoth life, you, my friend… are wro-ah!”  
   A sharp sting burned his cheek as a hand slapped him. Well, well, he’d struck a nerve, hadn’t he? Nonetheless, Talan didn’t frown, didn’t even scowl at the fact he’d been slapped. He was impressed, actually, and a sharp shot of pleasure ran through his veins at the strike of his little brother. He was lucky that none of those rings had cut him. Kaaras had held back, despite the strike.  
   Brushing his hair back over his shoulder, Talan rubbed his cheek and laughed lightly. “That is a strong hand you have there. Do you often slap your men around?”  
  
   “You are _not_ part of the Inquisition, you are _not_ my apparent brother, and you damn well don’t get to open your mouth about _my_ father.” Kaaras’ brows knitted tightly and his jaw was just as tight, his whole body stiff in anger. Was it wrong to hit the stranger? Absolutely! He already wanted to apologise, he shouldn’t have done it. But there were no excuses to be said. He hit him because he was talking his father down, and Kaaras wouldn’t be having it! He wouldn’t stand here and listen to such bullshit. His father was a _good_ man—a _great_ man! Not some cheating bastard who fucked any old stranger.  
   “Get out before I send the guards to collect you.” He rounded his desk and picked up some of the reports again, an indication that this conversation was absolutely over. Despite the man’s low self esteem in himself, Kaaras still had his pride, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to have some Qunari dog talking his family down. They escaped from a nightmare, and they deserved happiness, not to be said that his father was some cheating scoundrel! His parents would have told him…  
  
   “No.” The word was firm for the usually playful nature of Talan. If Kaaras refused him, he had nowhere else to go. He came here so he could get away, so he’d never have to be ruled by the Qun again. Everything hung on this man’s decision, and no wasn’t an option he was prepared to take.  
   But that’s the thing when you’re born under the Qun. Once you were free, there was no sense of purpose any longer. Without Kaaras, Talan had no purpose. His whole purpose was to come here and be with his brother, and the man was refusing him that. Well, two could play stubborn, couldn’t they?  
  
   “Excuse me?” Kaaras looked back up. Talan wasn’t even in a position to fight back, and his posture didn’t even say he _wanted_ a fight. Kaaras had been a mercenary captain; he knew what it looked like when someone was being insubordinate. No… there was something else. Something that he couldn’t quite put a finger on.  
   He wouldn’t hit the man again. The adrenaline and anger had been wrong, and he knew that. Instead, Kaaras put the reports back down and stood straight on to the other qunari. “What do you want from me? Is the Qun not good enough for you? Don’t you realise that there is no alliance? I’m fairly certain that reached back all the way to Par Vollen, which means it _certainly_ reached Rivain. So… Talan-ash, what do you want from me and the Inquisition?”    
  
   “A blood test.”  
  
   “What?”  
  
   Talan smiled. “You do not believe me. How could I possibly blame you?” Taking a step closer, he looked down into those red eyes, which were clearly trying to understand where this was going. “Blood does not lie.”  
  
   “You’re… you’re from the Qun. Don’t you _hate_ magic? Don’t you realise that that requires blood magic?” Kaaras asked, a sceptical look across his face. Why would someone go to that length to try and prove his relationship to him? There was an uneasy feeling in his gut now, and he wasn’t sure what he felt. The guilt from striking Talan certainly was something that suddenly grew very fast.  
   Could it be possible? Could Talan actually be his brother? But… why would his parents lie to him? Why would they keep that from him!? He took a step back, and his long ears fell back, worried now. What if everything he knew about them was a lie? He trusted them… he had to, they were his parents!  
  
   He was getting through now, Talan could tell. If those delightfully long ears hadn’t said it for him, then the look in those deep, red eyes did. “If I absolutely hated magic then why would I be here, brother? You are a mage—and a powerful one, so I have heard through the winds.”  
   Noting the state of the room, it didn’t take long for him to observe the kind of man Kaaras was. The straight posture, the fact every little thing had its place here. He liked control and order. Years under the Qun and living in Rivain taught Talan how to be observant, and he was fairly confident in his reading abilities. Of course Kaaras would need solid evidence to believe something like this was capable, but he was also a simplistic farm boy. He could be swayed given the right technique. The hesitation was enough to know that he just needed one more, little push.  
   “I did not come here to hurt you, Kaaras. And I will not lie, because I have no reason to. You are passionate about your family, the slap to my cheek says that.”  
  
   Kaaras looked away, putting a hand to his mouth in thought (and guilt).  
  
   “You, Kaaras Adaar, are my escape from the Qun. What I did to get those records makes me an enemy of my people. And once they realise what I have done—and they will because they are oh-so-clever, I am a dead man. You are the only person who can protect me. But if you want to know the truth, then that is what I will give you.”  
  
   “Why didn’t you keep the records? You realise if I had the proof, I would believe you more than I do now.” What kind of idiot threw away something so important!? Instead of all this bullshit, he could have just looked at these apparent records Talan had stolen and been done with it. Now it was some stupid dance that he didn’t want any part in.  
  
   Talan was going to say the truth, but this time he lied. Kaaras had more family under the Qun—of course he did. But Talan was selfish, and perhaps simply wanted to protect Kaaras even more with keeping that from him. “Well, you see, on my travels, I lost them. A wolf ate them. You have lots of them here.”  
  
   Blonde brows knitted. “That is an awful lie... “ Uncreative.  
  
   “Perhaps more the reason why you should believe my truths.”  
  
   Kaaras could feel his stomach tightening, anxiety running through him. If he listened to Talan, if he accepted what was said, then it meant his mother and father had lied to him for years. He didn’t know if he could deal with that. But he wanted desperately to know the truth, and Talan was here… saying all of this with just the intent to stay and be safe?  
   Another life in his hands, a possible… _brother_!? He always wanted a brother, but… not like this. This was not how it was meant to happen, this was not how he was meant to find out. Why would they lie!? To protect him!? From what!? What could the knowledge of having a brother ever do to him!?  
   “How… how do you know?” he asked, looking back at Talan. “After all these years, what persuaded you to come here now? Why… should I _believe_ you?” His voice was not stern, but now desperate to know the truth.    
  
   “Perhaps you should take a seat,” Talan gestured, but Kaaras didn’t move. “Or not, that is fine—your office after all.” The rogue smiled, and he casually leant against the railing of the stairs. “Everybody knows of the alliance that you did not take. The talk of how the grand Inquisitor stole one of our best Ben-Hassrath agents and turned them. Your name is all over the north, Kaaras.”  
  
   “My name says nothing of my roots,” Kaaras interrupted, “and you know that, _Talan-ash_.” He knew what the man’s name meant. ‘Talan’ was truth and ‘ash’ was seek--to find. To seek truth, or truth seeker.  Qunari didn’t have names, they had numbers, and then they liked to give themselves nicknames. It’s why so many of them shared the same name, as a working title or as some other Qunlat word. As far as Kaaras was concerned, his mother and father changed names when they fled.  
  
   “That is true,” Talan smirked as he pointed towards the shorter qunari. “But the point is, we all know of your name. The stories up north say that you are a powerful, deceiving mage. The only reason you are not dead is because that thing in the sky. The moment you close it, the moment the Qunari will be saying that name with bloodlust.”  
  
   Kaaras already knew that. The Qun wasn’t stupid. They wouldn’t start a war so long as there was someone else who could get rid of the Breach in the sky. He also knew that he’d probably be dead if it weren’t for the anchor on his hand. He was the only one who could close rifts, and they knew that. So long as he could do that, he had a purpose to them. But once it was closed…  
  
   “I do not know if the Qun has already did what I did. Have looked at the records. It would not surprise me if they did not know of your blood… Your parents are already traitors to the Qun, but… another Ben-Hassrath taken by you?”  
  
   The Herald’s ears flicked up in surprise. What was that supposed to mean? He frowned and folded his arms again. “Another? My parents weren’t Ben-Hassrath, Talan… “ He shook his head. Well, he supposed that proved it, right? “I’m sure there’s more blonde qunari with red eyes out there, but you have gotten me mixed up with someone else. My mother was a tamassran and my father was a labourer.”  
  
   Talan’s brow shot up. “Uh… no… no, he was Ben-Hassrath.”  
  
   “No, he wasn’t.” Kaaras’ voice turned stern now. How dare this man try and make out that he knew his father more than he did?  
  
   “Kaaras, my dear, do you really think that the Qun would have put someone like our father on farm duty? Planting crops?” He laughed lightly. “I know you are Vashoth, but a man of his size, his stature, he was a warrior to be reckoned with.”  
  
   But he couldn’t have been! Surely… And yet, when he was young, he remembered that his father wasn’t exactly the farmer type. It was his mother who had taught him how to grow things. He had had the idea of the ram farm, did a lot of heavy lifting, but he hadn’t the slightest in how to crop plants. Kaaras didn’t even _think_ of that being a lie because that’s what they told him. And he trusted them!  
   He put a hand to his forehead. “Why would the Qun care about a farmer going rogue?” he said aloud, more to himself than to Talan. It made sense, though. Why would the Qun ever care about a nobody? But they were so insistent all of the time to run away and come down South, that the Ben-Hassrath, the bad people, would be after them. If he was one of them… of course they’d want to take him out. And the biggest insult would have been to take their child under the Qun and re-educate him. One last mockery of their escape.  
   He leant himself against his desk, looking down at his boots. They lied to him for years… And his mother still was. To protect him, he knew it would be her excuse. But from what!? He didn’t _need_ protecting, especially now! He was one of the most powerful men in Thedas. There had to be another reason, though, why they didn’t come forward.  
   “Why should I believe a stranger?” he asked, looking back to Talan. He wanted desperately to throw him out.    
  
   “Because I am still in the room, dear brother. If you did not believe or at least question my knowledge, then you’d have called those guards you threatened me with.” He smiled again, bright, despite the subject that was on the table.  
  
   He hated to admit that, but Talan was right. Kaaras was furious inside. He was upset for them having lied to him. How could they? Everything about the Qun that they had told him had been horrible and scary and made him fear it. Made him _hate_ it! This wasn’t about to change his feelings about it, it was slavery for his kind, and not a life worth living. But still. He was torn in how to feel and what to think about all of this.  
   “They lied to me for a reason, Talan. My parents… and… your father, if we are related.” His eyes went down again, and he shook his head. “Why? Why would they lie to me? And don’t tell me some bullshit lie that it was to protect me.”  
  
   The man was a mess when it came to emotions and dealing with them, that was obvious in his sudden vocal changes. From soft to stern within a single sentence. If they lied, however, it was due to one thing, and Talan knew it. He had the scars on his back to prove that it took its toll on both victim and perpetrator.  
   “Mister Adaar was a re-educator. They are valuable folk under the Qun who do not break. They _must_ believe that what they are doing is for the Qun, for the people. To better them and unite them.” If one broke, it was the end. They were not fit for their job. They could hand themselves in, or they could flee. Either way, they were never truly free.  
  
   Kaaras’ hand moved to his mouth again and he made a soft noise of what sounded like despair. It hurt. A lot. To know that his father was a cruel, disgusting person who did those things. Who beat people into submission, who mentally and physically tortured them! He obviously changed, but… that blood was still on his hands. Just as his own father’s blood was on his.  
   “Maker’s breath…” he muttered, biting at his bottom lip. “I… I need a moment.” It was going to take a lot of time to settle in, and he knew that. Part of him was still saying that Talan was just making things up, despite the obvious. The blood test was still on the table, too, if he really needed to be convinced more. But his head was a mess, and he couldn’t think straight. It was an information overload, and if his parents had lied about something like this, then what else could they be making up? About the Qun, about anything!  
   When Talan went to say something, his hand flew up and pointed to the door. “ _Now!_ ”  
  
   “Alright, alright, I will leave you to your thoughts. In the meantime... perhaps I will explore this lovely castle of yours and the people inside of it.” He gave Kaaras a mischievous smile, but did not linger. Kaaras clearly had a temper that he was trying very hard to control. In all honesty, it terrified Talan. His brother was a mage, and a powerful one. He wanted to be nowhere near him when the shit hit the ceiling.  
  
   As the door closed, Kaaras’ eyes closed as he leant his palms onto his desk. He couldn’t believe this was happening. He couldn’t believe he had a brother. How many more!? How many more people did his father fuck before he fled the Qun?  
   His breathing became hard, heavy pants as he felt the rage surge through his veins. His arms lifted and he flipped the table over, reports flipping around before he smacked a boot right into the underside of the hard wood. It hurt horribly, but the pain was nothing compared to havoc within his chest.  
   It would only take one letter to confirm it. But fuck the letter. He wanted to see every telltale sign as he confronted his mother in person. He didn’t want to read words that could be lies anymore. He needed to hear her say it. That she’d lied to him all this time. She might not know about Talan, she was not his mother, but she sure as hell would know if her husband had been a Ben-Hassrath. There were gaps that needed to be filled, a lot of them.  
   This changed everything.

**Author's Note:**

> This doesn't cover everything, and there's still a lot of gaps that need to be mentioned and said, but those are for later, when Kaaras has calmed down and decided to have a more civil conversation with his half-brother.


End file.
